As potential return of Cowboys' Josh Brent nears, mother of Jerry Brown pushes to bolster son's legacy

When Jerry Brown was little, and dreaming about the NFL, his mom teased him about what she'd do when he finally made it big.

"I'm gonna come to your home," Stacey Jackson told her boy, "and I'm going to drink all your o.j. and eat all your food!"

She still thinks about opening up her son's refrigerator.

"Now I can't do that," she says.

Next month will mark the two-year anniversary of the night Jerry Brown got into Josh Brent's Mercedes in Irving, Texas, and rode in the passenger seat as the car sped along Route 114 at speeds in excess of 110 mph. Brent was legally drunk. He hit a curb and crashed.

Brent survived. Brown did not. He was 25 years old.

Stacey's son was on the Dallas Cowboys' practice squad, on the brink of making that childhood dream real again. Brent was already on the team, having played only a few days before the accident. He was sentenced to 180 days in jail and 10 years probation. He is back on the Cowboys' roster and eligible to play again Sunday for the first time since the accident.

Brent has dedicated the rest of his career to his close friend's memory, telling reporters last week that he wanted "to make sure Jerry's name does not die in vain." Many would never forgive him for what happened that December night. Stacey Jackson already has.

"Only thing I told him is, 'You will always have naysayers and people who don't understand the reason I did what I did,'" Jackson says by phone from her San Antonio home on Thursday. "He and Jerry were both in the car. God saved him for a reason. I tell him, 'Make sure you give forth not just for you but for the children who are watching. Go out there and play for you and Jerry. That's what Jerry would have wanted.'"

Jackson spends her days caring for Brown's daughter, Mya, who was born nearly two months after the fatal accident, and Brown's baby nephew, Jerry. She says they both remind her of her son. The children "fill some of the empty void," she says.

"He's always smiling," she says. "So humble. Laughs, plays. It's like, 'Oh wow, you look like your daddy but act like your uncle!'"

There's another daily reminder of Jerry: the charity in Brown's honor. The Spark The Leadership Foundation has a mission to "Teach teenagers how to be positive leaders, how to be active leaders, and how to make and prepare themselves for future decisions." The name was Jerry's idea, with S, T, and L standing for Brown's hometown of St. Louis. That's how Jerry was: thinking about giving back even before he arrived at his NFL goal.

"That's all he kept talking about," Jackson said. "'When I make it, I want to make children know that because we're pro athletes we don't forget where we came from. Just because I'm a pro athlete doesn't mean I've forgotten how hard my mother struggled.'"

Brown was a gentle giant from childhood, playing a violent sport with a soft heart. He was always a little bit bigger, always a little bit better and yet always a little bit kinder, too. "One of the sweetest, sweetest boys," said Cassie Arner, who worked in Illinois' sports information department when Brown was at the school. "Very quiet. As good of a player as he was, I don't think he knew he was a good player."

When Brown struggled with academics and had to leave Illinois, he wrote Arner a note of thanks. "Just knowing that someone didn't count me out," he wrote, "helped me [see] the greater good of all whom dealt with me through my college career."

"He just loved football so much," Arner said, "and that's all he really wanted to do."

He got his chance. Brown played in the CFL and helped Jacksonville's Arena League team to a title before being picked up by the Indianapolis Colts and then the Cowboys. He played in one NFL game for Indianapolis in 2012. After his death, the Cowboys placed his jersey on their bench during an emotional comeback victory over the Cincinnati Bengals.

Jackson invited Brent to sit with her during her son's memorial service.

"I don't think Jerry would want me to hold a grudge and consume my life with hatred," she said. "That would mean not giving my love for these kids. And it's not going to bring him back."

Still, it's overwhelming at times. She is fully supportive of Brent's return to play, but she's not sure she will watch the Cowboys this weekend. It's been a difficult few weeks. Jerry would have turned 27 in late October; Thanksgiving, the anniversary and Christmas are all coming up. "What if he was still here?" she wonders. "Would I have more grandbabies?"

She pours her heart into the kids, and the foundation, and her faith, the way she poured herself into raising Jerry.

"In our darkest hours, if you believe, that's the only way I got through it," she said. "The worst nightmare is to put one of your children to rest and you're still here."

She is still here, still carrying out Jerry's plan to give back. She has even given some of her own money to the foundation, even though she's the day-to-day force behind it now.

"I'm asking you not to give to me," she said, addressing anyone thinking of donating. "To give back to the children you were once. It's our duty to help. If they don't get help, they're going to get lost."

"I don't know you," she said, "but I believe in you."

And that's a clear glimpse into both Jerry Brown and his mom. They always thought of others, and gave to others, and trusted others, without a second thought.

"Seeing Stacey and the strength she has," said former Illinois assistant coach Mike Locksley, who is now at Maryland. "If you know Stacey, you know Jerry. She looks at Josh as if Josh was another son."

Stacey Jackson still talks to her late son. "Every day, all day," she said. "I say good night to him. I see his area with his trophy and his pictures. Some days I know he's here with me I get this overwhelming feeling. I hear him say, 'OK momma calm down, I'm still here.' And then I'll be happy."

Sometimes the little things are the hardest, like opening up the refrigerator and seeing the orange juice. Sometimes, though, she opens that door and looks inside and she thinks of how she used to tease her little boy.

And she laughs.